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[XIX. I Fall & thē I rise again]

I fall & thē I rise again a loft

I fall & thē I rise again a loft, I sing & sigh, and all with in a stoūd, I slept on stons, although my bed be soft, I clime ful high, thē tumble to the groūd thus my poore hart with Cupids dart sore wounded, doth tire it selfe, and thus sweet loue is founded.